


Hunger

by Goblinbrigade



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Gen, Ignis cooks for Prompto, Love Confessions, M/M, Noct is one hell of a wingman, Prompto wears contacts, Self-Esteem Issues, Some angst, Whenever i heard the line it really bothered me a lot so I needed to fix it, body image issues, cooking mishaps, idk maybe im just sensitive, just generally being a dumbass, mentions of eating disorders, self-imposed food deprivation, the relationship is more obvious in the second part, trans prompto if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goblinbrigade/pseuds/Goblinbrigade
Summary: Somewhere in the back of his mind, Prompto knew starving himself wouldn’t help, but he didn’t know what else to do when every little inch of his own skin felt unfamiliar at the best of times. If he just lost a bit more weight, he’d feel human again. Just a bit more, just a bit more.ORIgnis' words are careless. It doesn't bother Prompto (It does, it really does.).
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do I love this game? Yes. Am I reading too far into one throwaway line? Also yes. Will I stay mad about it? Give me a few months.
> 
> I love all four of the boys but there is a certain statement when pulling into a rest stop that feels a bit tone deaf considering Prompto's past and honestly I am mad(tm).
> 
> I just needed to get this out because ehh.

“If you want to gain weight? Certainly,” Ignis gave Prompto a look, one perfectly trimmed brow raising just slight as if to dissuade him from continuing. The young blond shrunk under that gaze, looking away as he bit into his bottom lip. Weakly, he could only reply with a soft, “Yeah…”

Prompto couldn’t help but look down at himself, his fingers resting over his stomach and pressing into the soft skin until he couldn’t any longer. He gulped, glancing from the Crow’s Nest, to Ignis as he was moving to get out, then back down at himself. Was that a hint? Prompto couldn’t help but entertain the idea that he was beginning to put on weight again, and it sent a chill down his spine. Still, he forced a grin and stepped from the Regalia with a heart beating far too rapidly to ignore.

Feeling a slap on his shoulder, Prompto’s head shot up to stare wide-eyed at Noctis as he was ushered along with the rest of the group. If anyone noticed the falter in his smile no one mentioned it. Maybe it was for the best. No, it was for the best, he reminded himself. He didn’t want to bother anyone, he knew Ignis didn’t mean anything by it.

But what if he did?

Prompto eyed the spectacled man warily, sucking in his bottom lip as they stepped into the tiny little store that he had previously said ‘had everything.’ Something to make the beating in his ears go away would be nice. Instead of strolling up to the counter right behind Noct, he instead slid behind a shelf just for some privacy. They needed some more potions, anyway.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet—a way he realised to at least quell some of the nervous energy he felt coursing through him—Prompto didn’t notice the large hulk of a man sliding up beside him with an impassive expression on his face. At least, not until he felt a nudge on his shoulder.

“You okay?” The low timbre of Gladio’s question almost made Prompto jump, his stomach practically clambering into his throat as he struggled for the right words to say. For a few long seconds, Prompto could only stand there with his mouth hung open like some kind of fish. Shifting from foot to foot, he simply nodded and looked away, cheeks flushing in shame.

“Yeah, buddy, I’m fine!” Grabbing an armful of the small vials, Prompto didn’t give himself any time to consider the tone in his own voice. He already knew it wavered just slightly. For a long moment, the much larger man simply stared, before seemingly letting him go.

“’Kay,” He muttered with a shrug, his gaze floating away as if having noticed something. He wouldn’t pursue the questioning, Prompto knew that. And he was thankful for it.

They had enough gil for the twenty-something vials he’d hurried to gather in his attempt to escape from the situation.

Later, when they’d finished their shopping to settle into the Crow’s Nest, Prompto felt his stomach drop with uncertainty. He glanced at the menu, at the tired employee who was dead behind the eyes, then at Ignis. He couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to that little line the spectacled man had said, and for a moment fear gripped his heart. He was gaining weight again, wasn’t he? Ignis could tell. The others probably could too, they just weren’t mentioning it. Pushing the menu away, he mumbled, “I’m… not that hungry,” With a tight little smile that would convince no one. Prompto’s stomach protested the words, but he simply hunched over and pretended he couldn’t hear it.

Prompto could feel eyes on him for a moment as he dropped his forehead onto the counter, but he tried not to let it bother him. Cautiously, he opened one eye to see Gladio and Ignis exchanging glances while Noctis’ expression fell into a thin line, thinking. They moved on and ordered their own meals. Multiple times, Prompto felt inclined to steal a bite from one of the others, but multiple times he stopped himself with a grimace.

That certainly wouldn’t help.

When they were settling down for bed, Prompto felt that hunger return. Instead of sneaking out to get something, he just curled in on himself and tried to bury his thoughts under how much better he would be once he loses weight.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Prompto knew starving himself wouldn’t help, but he didn’t know what else to do when every little inch of his own skin felt unfamiliar at the best of times. If he just lost a bit more weight, he’d feel human again, he told himself. Just a bit more, just a bit more.

It was too late by the time he couldn’t take it anymore. His stomach felt like it was eating itself from the inside out and he’d been staring at the rise and fall of Ignis’ chest on the cot next to him for a few hours now. Gulping, he reached out of his blanket and pressed his fingers into the man’s shoulder.

“Iggy, you awake?” Prompto’s voice was hoarse and shakier than he’d like to admit, his fingers blurring in the low light without his contacts. He felt weak, like he could scarcely even lift his arm, and for a moment when Ignis didn’t immediately respond he felt himself draw back. Gulping, he tried to turn onto his back until he was stopped by the other man squinting into the darkness at him with a tired little groan.

“Yes,” Came the simple reply, almost clinical. Prompto bit on his bottom lip, having not planned for this eventuality. He paused, struggling with his own words.

It wouldn’t be the first time, his mind helpfully supplied.

“Can you—I—” Prompto stammered, feeling his cheeks flush with shame. He was so hungry; he’d take anything at that point. Taking a few more moments to collect his thoughts, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “Am I fat?”

It was as if time had stopped between the two men, as if Prompto had just stepped somewhere sacred, as if Ignis had just raised his voice to a group of children. Ignis blinked rapidly, blearily, sitting up so he could fumble around for his glasses as he processed the question. Prompto felt like he was choked up, his body completely frozen and his temples spiking with a headache he hadn’t noticed up until that very moment.

Ignis’ brows furrowed into a tight v, his mind running with thoughts as he appeared to examine the younger man. Finally, he murmured, “Far from it—Prompto, what brought this on?”

“Nothing, man, I’m just—” Prompto turned over, his back facing Ignis as if to run away. He wasn’t sure what to say and his eyes were a little teary from sleep and food deprivation. He just wanted to stop existing, because whether or not Ignis said he was fat, Prompto knew he was. He needed less food, needed to get out of the car more and walk, he needed—he needed…

“Prompto,” The hand on his shoulder drew Prompto from his own mind, gloved fingers squeezing against his bare flesh to get his attention. Did Ignis sleep with his gloves on or did he just… “Come on, you need to eat. I’ll cook you something.”

There was a gentle firmness in the way Ignis spoke, something that told Prompto that the man would brook no arguments on the matter. He almost did regardless, but it was late and it was difficult just laying there feeling his stomach eat itself from the inside out. Sitting up and allowing the blanket to roll off him, Prompro followed along silently, stepping around the bodies of the other two men who appeared to sleep like the dead. “I’m fine, really,” Prompto murmured quietly, a statement that fooled no one. Not even himself.

Prompto caught himself in the mirror of the caravan as he followed, his bare chest making him look small. His ribs stuck out a bit, his freckled arms looked small, and yet his stomach… Tearing his gaze away he bit down on his lip and tried not to think too hard. He was good at that.

When he sat down to watch Ignis prepare something, Prompo felt himself flush with shame. He was causing trouble for Ignis, and the rest of them. He had no place here, to be protecting Noctis. He had no place at Noctis’ side. The entire thought was almost enough to make him cry. Instead, he simply whimpered.

“Prompto,” Ignis was at his side, an empty plate in hand as the stove was left alone and hot. As the man placed the items down, he appeared to pull a perplexed expression before readjusting his glasses. In the dark, Prompto was glad he didn’t have his contacts in. Not being able to see properly was a blessing in its own way. He heard a dissatisfied grunt, and then felt a finger hook under his chin to force his gaze upward, “Are you okay?”

The question gave the young man pause, his baby blue eyes shifting away as if to genuinely consider it. No, Prompto realised, he probably wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell Ignis that.

“I’m fine, dude,” Prompto’s laugh was more of a stammer, as if his very body was trying to betray him to the man and—god, why did that gloved hand make him feel things? It was just too much to bear, too much to even consider, and before he knew it, he couldn’t help but sigh, “Did you mean it? In the car today?”

It took some time for Ignis to process the question, his hand falling away to readjust his glasses. It was as if he had to think about it. When he did finally realise what Prompto was referring to, however, his eyes blinked wide and surprised. “Prompto, I didn’t mean—” A sigh, a soft one, a sad one, “No. Of course I didn’t. I didn’t mean to imply anything; I was speaking about the restaurant in particular.”

Ignis had to turn away to tend to his cooking, leaving Prompto staring bewildered at his back. He… didn’t mean it? Well, now he felt like a fool.

Shit.

“You’re really quite scrawny,” Ignis added, turning right back around with the plate full as he placed it into Prompto’s lap, “And starving yourself certainly wouldn’t help you lose weight faster anyhow. It isn’t healthy and you don’t need it. Eat.”

And he did, slowly picking the meal at his own pace. His stomach practically did a dance all on its own, but only when he was finished with the meal did he turn to Ignis with a quiet little, “Thank you.”

“Do you always feel like this?” Ignis enquired, taking his glasses off to clean them. He didn’t stop facing Prompto all the while, leaving the young man at a loss of words. Did he? It was hard to tell sometimes. He never really liked his body, but it was better, he supposed, than how it used to be.

“I guess…” He could only answer. He had to look away, scratching at his cheek absently. Prompto never really felt right in his own body, but whether that was the weight issues or the gender issues was anybody’s guess. From beside him he could hear Ignis sigh.

“I apologise for being so callous. I will attempt to consider my words more carefully next time and…” Ignis thought for a moment, slapping on a soft sort of smile that Prompto had scarcely seen on the man, “I think I’ll cook for you more often. Call it somewhat of an extended apology.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have something that isn't just Prompto feeling bad about himself.
> 
> Though there is some of that.

Prompto never actually found out whether Ignis sleeps in his gloves. It was an odd thought to have, really, watching the man cook something over the fire with such determination as if it were a life or death situation. Prompto practically flushed at the thought; he wasn’t important enough for such things, he was being foolish.

“Are you sure this isn’t a bother?” Prompto asked for perhaps the fiftieth time in a row. He knew what the answer would be at this point, knew that it was unlikely to change, but still his mind could only drift back to that little conversation they had a few weeks back. Ignis looked up from his cooking, lips pulled into a grimace.

“No. It isn’t,” Ignis caught Prompto’s eye, that gaze boring into his own as if to tell him to stop worrying. It wouldn’t; Prompto knew enough about himself at this point to know that no matter what anyone else said it wouldn’t ever stop him from worrying. Still, Ignis continued as he turned back to the job at hand, his front lit alight by the flame while the rest of him was shrouded in darkness. Prompto couldn’t help but find the image beautiful, something worth photographing even, but he otherwise didn’t say or do anything. “You’re not a chore, you never have been.”

Staring wide-eyed at the man, Prompto felt his cheeks flush and his brows crease. He gulped, glancing away, before looking back at Ignis as if attempting to find some kind of fault in the man’s logic. A part of him—in fact, most of him—felt inclined to throw out everything Ignis was saying, because they were clear lies to placate him. Prompto was a bother, he was a chore, he didn’t even know why he was there in the first place. Being Noctis’ friend was little use when he was dead because he was too incompetent to take out a monster. Instead of denying it, however, Prompto simply glanced away.

“I…” He had no idea what to say, the words dying in his throat with a shake of his head. Instead he forced a smile, swallowing his uncertainty. By that point, Ignis appeared to be finished, placing the meal of what appeared to be some kind of fried rice into two bowls. The man had begun to eat with him in recent days, instead of eating with the other two just so Prompto didn’t feel out of place. At least, that’s what the blond thought. As he took the bowl, he mumbled out a little thanks before all but shovelling the meal into his mouth. It was comfortable to eat with just Ignis there, less so with the other two.

When all was done and they’d finished eating, Prompto watched for a moment as Ignis began to clean the dishes for the coming morning. He considered getting up to help, but the look Ignis gave him said otherwise, “You should get some rest, we have a way to travel tomorrow.”

“Could I help?” Prompto blurted out, momentarily flustering himself before he manages to elaborate, “Make breakfast I mean. Tomorrow. Morning.” As he stood, he stumbled a little just from his fidgeting alone. “You know, as thanks for… everything.” Now he was just putting his foot in his mouth and Ignis was going to thing he was weird and—

“If you wish,” Ignis shrugged, causing Prompto to jump. “But you should know I’m not doing this for a favour or anything of the sort. I do genuinely enjoy our time together.”

“Yeah but I—” Prompto had to stop himself for fear of putting his foot in his mouth. Again. He didn’t truly have an answer, “I wanna.”

And that would have to be enough.

When Prompto returned to the tent he was confronted by a look from Noct, those dark eyes of his seeming to be inspecting the man with something akin to scrutiny—or at least whatever he could manage in the darkness of the tent so late in the evening. It almost made Prompto gulp.

Finally, his best friend opened his mouth, “Are you and Specs dating or something?”

Prompto blinked. Noctis stared. Until he felt his cheeks heat in utter embarrassment. The man in the sleeping bag beside him continued to stare, one brow quirking upward at the reaction he was getting. Stumbling over his words as he plopped down on his own sleeping bag, Prompto attempted in vain to search for an answer, “What? Dude, no! We’re—We’re not—”

“I’m not judging you if you are, you know. Just figured I’d ask in case the two of you wanted to…” Noctis trailed off meaningfully, his eyes drooping from the lack of sleep. Vaguely, as if it would at all explain his point, he lifted his hand in a gesture that explained nothing. Not like he needed it. This… this was too much.

“Dude that’s never gonna happen,” Prompto protested all too quickly, hoping the flush creeping up his neck wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “No one would—Iggy wouldn’t… we’re not dating.” Attempting to smother his nervousness with a laugh, Prompto pointedly looked away from Noct.

Prompto wasn’t dating material, he was a bundle of nerves and hang-ups and wouldn’t be worth it in the end. Ignis probably wanted better than him. Ignis could _do_ better than him. Most everyone could, really. A thought that was a moot point regardless because he wasn’t dating anyone, Ignis included.

“Right. I was just listening to you and you seemed…” Prompto could practically hear the snicker in Noct’s voice, “Close.” What did that even mean? They were just talking. Prompto was talking to his best friend right then! Of course, the man continued regardless, “’Sides, it’s not like it wouldn’t be good for either of you. I mean, he could stand to get laid once in a—”

“Gods, I’m going to bed!” Turning onto his side, Prompto let out a huff as he heard Noct snort from beside him. Blissfully, it was easy to get to sleep.

+

Prompto wished the conversation from the night prior didn’t bother him. He couldn’t stop the beating of his heart as he silently watched Ignis prepare breakfast that morning. The vegetables he’d been attempting to cut were left forgotten, the knife he held in his hands dangerously close to his careless fingers.

Ignis was enraptured in his preparations, brows slightly creased as he maintained his level gaze on the stirring of the pot. His hair, usually so perfectly styled and clean was a tad unkempt that morning, a few stray strands dropping over his face. They didn’t appear to bother him, too focused was he in his duties.

“If you would continue…” Ignis murmured suddenly, turning his head just slightly to shoot Prompto an odd sort of look. Flustered, he pressed down on the knife as if to pretend he hadn’t just been staring only to let out a shout as a sharp pain shot through his hand.

“Ow shit!” Prompto dropped the knife, landing with a clatter and sending some vegetables bouncing off the cutting board. With a low whine he could only grimace as he watched his own blood flow from the deep cut over his knuckles and down his fingers. His hand shook, not quite feeling the pain yet as he stared and stared and stared some more. It was only when the burning pain spread out from his hand did he let out another curse. Now he remembered why he never cooked before.

Biting at his bottom lip Prompto gave Ignis a helpless stare, who appeared to be having troubles of his own. With a soft click of his tongue, he reached out, dropped his hand, before he finally took Prompto’s wrist in those slender fingers of his. With a miserable little groan, he bit at his bottom lip just watching as with nary a hint of magic the cut was healed.

“Next time,” Ignis said, not unkindly, “Perhaps you should leave the cooking to me.”

With a nervous laugh, Prompto took a step back, bringing his hand back to his side with the touch of leather still lingering against his skin. His heart was beating in his ears, his cheeks flushed red while he tried his hardest not to let any of that get to him. He felt like an utter mess, and so simply closed his eyes and petted at Ignis’ shoulder as if to say thanks, “Yeah dude. I can’t mess up your cooking if I’m not there at all.”

Ignis winced at the comment, his brow twitching as he attempted to smooth it out, “Hardly. I’m far more concerned for your continued health than the state of breakfast.” Another long stare, one that told Prompto not to fight the man on this despite the urge to do so. His mind just continued to return to the conversation he’d had with Noct the night prior. They weren’t close, he told himself, though they had certainly become closer in recent weeks. But that was just because Ignis was cooking for him more.

It was easier to believe that lie than consider the possibility that his rapidly beating heart meant anything at all.

With a gentle smile—one that was like a punch to the gut—Ignis returned to clean up the mess Prompto had made, “Perhaps we can try again some other time. Something that doesn’t require the use of a knife.”

+

Later, when Gladio and Noct had retired for the night, and Prompto and Ignis were seated around the fire, he couldn’t help but snap a picture of the spectacled man as he picked at the meal he’d made. Still, as Prompto glanced down at the digital screen on his camera. Even then the image didn’t do the spectacle justice. Even then, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with that conclusion.

“You know Noct thought we might be dating,” Prompto pointed out with a laugh once the conversation had died down. He had to pretend he wasn’t just probing for how the other man might feel about such a conclusion. Ignis could only turn to him with a look of interest. “That’s weird, right?”

“Interesting, considering I received the exact same assumption from Gladio the other day,” Huh. It was almost enough to make Prompto snort. It was a little funny. Neither of them appeared to know how to continue the conversation, their words lulling once more as they finished up their meal. After what felt like an eternity, Ignis spoke up, “And how does that make you feel?”

Gods that was not the question Prompto had been expecting and he certainly had no answer for the man. How on earth could he say that he really enjoyed Ignis’ company but wasn’t entirely sure what he actually felt about the man and at that point he was to afraid to even consider it? He could have said all that, but elected not to, instead simply saying, “Er, how do you feel about it?”

Ignis appeared to consider the question for a moment, fingers tapping against his knee in thought. After what feels like an eternity, one where Prompto feels suspended from a skyscraper, he finally opens his mouth, “Whether or not others say something doesn’t make it true.”

“So it doesn’t bother you?”

“I never said that, but no. It doesn’t,” With a small smile Ignis shook his head, “Being as close to Noct as I am, I’m used to rumour even from the boy himself.”

“Oh, er, right,” Prompto murmured. He tried not to think too hard about the disappointment that caused his stomach to sink. “I guess I can understand, it just felt a bit weird. Especially considering…”

“We never really had much to do with one another,” Ignis agreed, “But I do hope we can become friends, given enough time.”

Prompto went to bed with thoughts of Ignis that night, his emotions all muddled up inside of him like some kind of coil that was wrapped around his heart. He just wished he knew how to explain them away like all the anxiety he felt whenever he messed something up.

+

“Dude you’re so obviously in love with Specs. It’s sickening,” Noctis stared impassively at Prompto from his seat in the booth, hands folded together as if conducting some kind of interview. Or maybe an interrogation, his mind decided. Prompto could only splutter, choking on his drink as his eyes practically bulged from his head.

“Dude… what?” Prompto finally managed after an eternity of being unable to breath because oh, Gods, Noct knew. Noct knew and so obviously Gladio knew too and if Gladio knew then surely Ignis must have known and if Ignis knew then, Six, Prompto _would_ die. “I do not,” He did. “We’re just friends,” But he wished they were more. “He’s like, way too obsessed with serving you to even consider anything like that.” And it hurt Prompto just to admit that.

Noctis wasn’t convinced. “Uh huh,” He simply said, taking a _long_ moment to drink from his glass, eyes locked onto Prompto all the while. He felt utterly naked in front of his best friend like that; completely transparent when all he wanted to do was combust into a little pile of ashes. Dying would have been preferable to the entire situation, “He’s gay as _fuck_ , you know.”

Glancing at the two men still appearing to be having a conversation at the counter, Prompto shook his head violently, “Like that matters. Because I’m not in love with him.” Not for the first time in the past few weeks, Prompto was confronted with the fact that he was an utter loser who lied despite the evidence laid bare at his feet. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, admit that maybe he was absolutely smitten with one of the royal retinue he was traveling with.

It was stupid.

He was stupid.

Again, all Noct replied with was a nonbelieving, “Uh huh,” before the other two finally made their way over to the booth. Mercifully, the man didn’t speak on the matter any further.

“Prompto, a word,” Came the calm voice of Ignis, his gloved hand falling onto his shoulder. Prompto had to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine, his gaze going downward to the glass of water he’d just choked on. A part of him wished he’d continued to choke just so he didn’t have to deal with the smug little grin Noctis was shooting him in that moment.

“Right,” He stammered, clambering to his feet and stepping around Gladio as he took his spot in the booth. He followed after the tall man, struggling to keep up as they rounded around the diner to somewhere more secluded.

Shit, Prompto realised, feeling his body seize up with fear. Ignis knew. He knew and this was the part where he let Prompto down as gently as he could, said that he was flattered but couldn’t be with him because it got in the way of his duties and Prompto wasn’t what he was looking for anyway and—

“You’re aware I’m not going to attack you, correct?” There was an almost amused little lilt to Ignis’ tone, his lips— _Six_ , his lips—curling upward into a smile. “You look as if you’re ill.”

“Ah… yeah… I just,” Prompto gnawed on the inside of his cheek, teeth sinking into the soft flesh until he could hold it no more. There was so much running through his head, so many little, horrible, thoughts that plagued his mind and it was so, so difficult to keep them in. And eventually, he couldn’t bare the weight any longer. “Shit Iggy, I just—you’re so—Gods, I’ve been thinking and thinking and I just can’t stand being near you like this which sounds horrible I know but it’s not what it sounds like and—” Prompto gasped for air before he continued, ‘—I’ve been trying to hold it in for weeks now and I guess it’s nothing to be scared about but I’m batshit _terrified_ of telling you that I think I love you because you’re _you_ and you could do so much better and—”

“Prompto!” Hands squeezing into the flesh of his shoulders awoke Prompto up from his rambling, eyes watery and body shaking as he fidgeted in his place. His head shot up to look at Ignis, at the beautiful man who’d spent so much of his time just being with Prompto, and all at once his mind was quieted. Those long fingers tenderly slipped down his arms to cup his hands together, stopping the squirming in its tracks, “Slow down. Deep breaths. Just listen.”

And Prompto did.

“I think I am rather fond of you as well,” Ignis glanced away as if gathering his thoughts. Prompto almost couldn’t believe it. He looked down at their interlocked hands. This was a dream, he decided, one he wished never to wake up from. Looking back, Ignis took a deep breath, eyes slipping closed as he disentangled himself from the other man to tenderly cup his chin in his fingers. Prompto couldn’t help but be reminded of the first night he came to the man, when first he cooked.

“You are?” Prompto stammered.

“Indeed, though…” An awkward beat of silence, a little thought that neither of them wanted to consider but one that Ignis felt compared to share regardless. He pressed a chaste little kiss to the top of Prompto’s head, gentle and sweet and unlike anything he had experienced before, “I can’t promise to put you first. If I were a normal man, if we weren’t in the company of the future king…” Prompto simply nodded, “Noct will forever and always be my number one priority. Which is unfair to you but my apologies are all I can offer. If…” A pause, momentary as it was, “If you understand then I am willing to try at courting you—Prompto, you’ve been quiet for a while now, are you okay?”

“Yeah man, I’m just great,” Prompto said weakly, his saliva feeling like lead in his mouth. His head felt like it was spinning, a dizziness coming over him as his breathing became more rapid. Was this death? It had to be death. With a quivering little breath, he wrapped his arms around the man for balance, burying his face into his chest as if to steal the very breath from the man. “I want that. You, I mean.” He wanted to ask why, but he chose not to, knowing full well it would only lead to self-hatred and scorn. Ignis had had taught him that. Having collected himself somewhat, Prompto leant back to finally look up at the man once more, cheeks doubtlessly flushed before he surged forward to lock their lips in a clumsy little hold.

In truth, Prompto wasn’t sure what he was doing and it only lasted a few moments before the nerve left him. But it was enough.

It would have to be enough.

“Oh by the way… do you sleep in your gloves?”

“That is absurd, of course not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you can appreciate it: the original title of this fic was 'Ignis pls stop'


End file.
